


X. Sleep Kiss, revisited

by causeimdifferent



Series: Wanted [10]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Love, M/M, Romance, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-08 03:37:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1925325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/causeimdifferent/pseuds/causeimdifferent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone is asleep. And someone else takes advantage.<br/>Someone wakes up. And someone else gets on his knees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	X. Sleep Kiss, revisited

As Thomas walks home, his mind is oscillating between fantasizing about fucking Philip – and contemplating how to find out safely, if he really does make Jimmy’s prick hard.

  
Climbing up the stairs to the servants' quarters an hour later, he has come to his conclusions:  
  
  
1) There is just no way in hell, to talk himself out of desperately wanting to fuck Philip before the end of the season.

  
2) There is just no way in hell, to inconspicuously gain the desired information regarding Jimmy’s privates.

  
The full moon trickles through the small hopper window as Thomas enters his room _._

  
And then he almost screams with shock.

  
At the dark shape on his bed.

  
  
  
Thomas fumbles for the button of the little lamp on the sideboard, almost sweeping his brush and his pomade to the floor.

  
As the light dimly fills the room, Thomas is convinced he has lost his mind.

  
He needs more than just a moment to grasp that he is still sane.

  
This is real.

  
The shape on his bed is a person, sleeping.

  
And this person is Jimmy.

  
  
  
Jimmy in his pajamas.

  
They are light blue with dark blue and white stripes.

  
He is lying on his side, hugging the pillow, his face directed towards Thomas. A lock of blond hair curling across his forehead.

  
The most beautiful lips in the whole wide word, so relaxed and full and delicately curved, that looking at them puts Thomas in a trance.  
  
  
Just like that night.

  
When they were calling out to kiss him, like sirens. Impossible to resist.

  
And now, just as then, Thomas can’t look away, remembering their feel on his lips as vividly as if he kissed them just yesterday.

 

  
Thomas sinks into the creaky wooden chair beside the bed.

  
Too mesmerized and dumbstruck to decide how to deal with all of this.

  
So he keeps marveling at Jimmy’s lips. Until they turn into something hypnotic.  
  
  
Soothing. And very, very relaxing.

  
They follow Thomas into his dreams.  
  
  
Where they morph into Philip’s lips, whispering: ‘I want to kiss you for the rest of my life, Thomas.”  
  
  
And back into Jimmy’s, beckoning: “For you I might want to make an exception.”  
  
  
“Prove it”, Thomas says and Jimmy’s lips meet his own and it feels so real, so very real.

  
He wakes up.

  
But the feeling remains.

  
  
  
Thomas opens his eyes.  
  
  
Just in time to see Jimmy start back.  
  
  
Looking at him, caught.

  
“Were you kissing me?” Thomas asks drowsily.

  
Instead of answering Jimmy says: “Why were you sleeping in that chair?”

  
“Because my bed was already occupied."

 

  
“Were you kissing me in my sleep?” Thomas ventures again.

  
Jimmy looks to the floor sucking at his lower lip.

  
“It was nice”, Thomas says. “Really nice.”

  
Jimmy eyes him again, cautiously. “You’re not cross I didn’t ask you, if it was alright to do it?”

  
Thomas shakes his head.

  
“Can I do it again?” Jimmy ventures with a brittle voice.

  
Thomas nods.

 

  
Jimmy puts his hands on the armrests of the chair and Thomas closes his eyes again.

  
But instead of lips pressing on his mouth, fingertips trail along Thomas's right cheekbone scratching over brand new stubble.  
  
  
Forwards, backwards.  
  
  
Further, to brush through his hair until his hands find a grip. To slightly draw Thomas’s head forward into a kiss, at last.  
  
  
Soft lips sinking into Thomas’s like a weary head into a plush pillow. There they remain, unmoving.  
  
  
Thomas resists the temptation to part his lips and taste him.  
  
  
Instead he stays still to just feel.

  
Leaving everything to Jimmy.

 

  
The pressure against his lips eases sooner than Thomas would have liked.

  
“I want to kiss you everywhere, just like he has done.” Jimmy whispers, his eyes wide open. Scared – and expectant.

  
Thomas’s tongue feels swollen, his voice is thick, as he says: “Go ahead.”

  
His brain being too tired to contemplate any possible repercussions of this decision.

  
Jimmy bends his legs to kneel between Thomas’s legs.  
  
  
Trembling fingers fumbling at the buttons of Thomas’s fly.  
  
  
Jittery hands brushing against Thomas’s swelling prick.

  
Thomas peels his suspenders from his shoulders.  
  
  
As he pushes himself up in the chair to let Jimmy pull down his pants, he is hard.

  
Jimmy stares at Thomas's length and then up at him: “What … do I do now?”

  
Thomas’s hands curl around the armrests to keep him from touching himself, his knuckles turning even whiter.  
  
  
Jimmy on his knees between his legs and looking up at him with those timid and wanting eyes is almost more than he can take.

  
“Whatever you want”, Thomas croaks, “Just do what you’d like me to do to you …” his voice vanishes into a moan.

  
“Can I touch you, too?”

  
“Anything. Just _do_ something.” _And do it now._

  
“I don’t know …”

  
“Just the way you touch yourself”, Thomas moans.

  
As Jimmy’s hand closes around his base firmly, Thomas needs to press his palm against his mouth to muffle his groans.

  
“Good?” Jimmy asks, beginning to stroke Thomas’s shaft with clammy hands.

  
“Yah”, Thomas whines, biting into his own flesh.

  
“Kiss it, lick it, suck it … just no teeth”, he manages, sounding as if he’s about to cry.

  
Jimmy bends forward, and their eyes locking he puts his lips on Thomas’s leaking tip, sucking it inside his mouth just a bit.  
  
  
The tip of his tongue teasing Thomas’s slit.

  
Thomas’s hips twitch upwards, his head rolls into his neck.

  
Jimmy withdraws once more: “Like that?”

  
“Just. Keep. On. Doing. This.”

  
And Jimmy does.


End file.
